Dog Days
by androidsdreamingofmetanoia
Summary: In this world, you're either a hero or a civilian. Shinobi protect us from other shinobi, but it's people like me who protect the land from its other adversaries, the dark stains on the underbelly of the nation. Now, I face a new challenge: growing up. Boys, colourblind blonds, a perverted Kakashi, ninjas, apples, more ninjas. At least I'm a survivor... too bad I'm a liar too.


**AN:**** This is my second Naruto fanfiction. My first shot at Naruto without one-shots or mini-fanfiction or whatever you guys call them. Yes, it's an OC, deal with it.**

**Because Naruto ended a few months back, I now choose to write this story because I have freedom to fill in holes in the storyline with my own ideas and events, and to make my own story. This is usually difficult to do in a fandom that's ongoing, because there's sudden changes, like in the last storylines in Shingeki no Kyojin or Ao no Exorcist.**

**I have taken a long break from writing, largely due to real-life issues which had taken a serious impact on my life. I had completely lost all motivation to write, and to help, I started reading my favourite novels, watching some TV shows, drawing from other sources for inspiration. I used this time to work on refining the characters and storyline, and to fix as many plot holes and inconsistencies as possible. However, it's usually difficult for an author to catch all of their mistakes. I'll try to post a new chapter once a week, but I make no promises. I lead an immensely busy life. **

**I'm writing other stories too, so if you like this stuff, I recommend you go check it out, I'm going to release the debut chapters for a few soon.**

**Anyway, I thank my beta-reader lollipops sucks, for taking the time out of her week to check through every chapter, to be someone to bounce plot ideas off and in general, to be an awesome person. And this story is a dedication to three people: lollipops sucks, a very dear friend in real life and of course, another friend of mine who (like me) is a Naruto freak.**

**Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me, I am an unemployed teenager, and how in the world could I draw and write a manga/anime with hundreds of thousands of fans, maybe more. I don't own any canon characters only the OCs, the characters I created in my head. Yes, I am sometimes really mean to the canon characters, but this is for humorous purposes only and I don't actually mean it. Masashi Kishimoto, if you're out there… Please don't kill me. No canon characters were harmed in the making of this fanfiction. I'm so sorry… no, no I'm not. Je ne regrette rien.**

**I really need to stop writing long A/Ns before I start boring you guys.  
**

* * *

_Hiruzen,_

_I have done as you requested and completed my investigation into the Nine Tailed Fox incident. I can confirm for you that it extends far beyond the beast being controlled by someone, an Uchiha if you accept the elder's theories. It is my belief, however, that there are other parties. They are desirous of greater gains, manipulating these events to achieve these goals through a means so as to not reveal themselves. An Uchiha is guilty of the crime, to be sure. However, the knowledge of who is responsible is still something left to be desired._

_People have met unjust ends for this, and someone has betrayed us. Someone knew about the arrangements with my friend, Kushina. Someone told this person, this "Madara Uchiha", the "Masked Man" who killed Biwako and Taji. I feel someone high up in our ranks is implicated as well, my suspicion is Danzō Shimura. You may not approve of my allegations, but I won't fall back from them. I know someone of his character is not trustworthy, even if they claim to be loyal. For he has committed foul deeds in this nation's name. If it is Danzō, his cause and motive is not yet clear to me, but my initial discoveries indicate a plan – the scope of which I'm sure will disturb you._

_Best we continue this conversation in person as I am hesitant to put my suspicion to paper. I worry that this correspondence is being observed by unfriendly eyes. Reply with a place and a time, and I will meet with you there. I feel like I'm being watched. I have ordered for temporary diplomatic protection for the Uchiha until it can be ascertained who leaked the information to the attacker. _

_I hope to resolve this matter quickly._

_Yours in confidence,_

_S._

* * *

It's hard to choose among wolves.

_**Irish/German proverb**__**  
**_

* * *

**Prelude: The Wolves Among the Sheep**

"Do it, then."

Violet eyes glower down into her indigo eyes, pulled deep into them yet a thousand miles away. Those eyes flash dangerously as she looks up into them; she remains unfazed by the silent threat. That stare speaks a thousand threats, yet she isn't afraid of any of them.

"Go on, I dare you."

She taunts, his hand is slick with sweat, his fingers a vice around the handle of his knife. The knife trembles in his grasp, the blade sings in the chill of the air. Violet eyes, darkened by rage, fix upon her.

"Why, you?" He demands, his voice a hissing rasp. His eyes narrow as they meet her own. "I have no quarrel with you, of all people. Why do you, of all people, insist on getting in my way?"

"Because I must," she replies, indigo eyes staring up defiantly. "Because it is what I must do." Her eyes seem so alive, full of challenge and defiance. He knows that much, but now, her expression is weary, beaten, marred by bruises and sallow skin. He knows she's broken.

"You can't stop me from doing this," he hisses, bringing the knife's edge to her throat. Her emotionless, distant expression does not change. "I will kill him, even if I have to kill you first."

He could sever her jugular, he could sever her carotid. He'd done it a thousand times before; he had seen the blood seep out from a thousand wounds like that. He had watched so many die before him, just like this. But could he watch her die? Could he do that?

A wolfish grin forms on her face, a dark chuckle bubbling from her throat. "Then, go on, kill me," she goads him, mocks him, her eyes flash. "If you can. Either way, you'll lose." Her eyes close, a slight crooked smile on her face.

He grabs her by her collar, yanking her forward to face her with a vehement glare. Her eyes snap open, a snarl twisting at her lips.

"Don't mock me," he snarls with burning coldness, his eyes aflame. "I could cut your throat out before you take your next breath."

"Then why haven't you?" She says icily, her eyes narrowing. Her voice veers off into a bonechilling hiss. She grips onto his collar, her fingers clawing into the fabric. "I will not allow you to succeed," she says softly, "I assure you that if I have to, I **will** kill you."

The deep indigo eyes open wide again, filled with a fiery determination. They seem to almost shine with a new purpose. She would be his last opponent, this would be his final battle. He knew, at that moment, that both of them would die then, there would be no middle ground.

"Do it, then. Try to kill me." She speaks again, her fingernails digging into the fabric. "We can fight, but you will the one to die here."

"You are a slave to them," he whispers, his voice bitter. His laughter was crisp, like the crackling of melting ice. "You're throwing your life away for some petty sacrifice. For _him_. You are worth ten of him."

"I am no slave. This is _my_ choice. I chose this."

"Your choice?"

"Yes, my choice."

"Why them? They're wolves, Asami." He pleads, trying to reason with those steely indigo eyes. "Wolves that speak litanies of lies, incite madness and spread death wherever they go." His eyes soften staring into her own, a glaze over them. Her expression does not change.

"It is hard to choose among wolves," she replies, loosening her grip. "But I am one of those wolves. Whether or not I am the type that preys upon the lambs, I have yet to know. I have chosen who I walk among." She says, her mouth sets into a firm line.

"Asami-"

"Masanori."

Those purple eyes. Damn those purple eyes. Those eyes that were once those of a friend, of a comrade, of a brother. Her brother. Now, they are just the eyes of an enemy. Her lips contort into a pained smile. She will have to fight him and she will have to kill him.

She no longer has the right to choose.

"Do it. I dare you."

He grits his teeth, releasing her from his hold, shoving her away from him.

Then, he moves forward, the blade slices through the still air.

* * *

_It is a black moon over Kumogakure. A starless night, garbed in black storm clouds. _

_A hooded figure stands upon the rooftop of the Raikage's Residence, they stare down below to the silent metropolis below. It is the dead of night, hardly anyone would be awake. But they take no chances. Gently suppressing their chakra signature, they leap forward, they land upon a statue's shoulder. Climbing up to the top of the head, they glance around them before settling. They perch on the head of a statue, staring to the horizon. Voices. They look below, watching a pair of jōnin bantering._

"_Look, Taro, I told you already, Samui's way outta your league," A taller, darker figure, rippling with solid muscle and standing at near six feet speaks to someone beside him, arms folded over his chest. "That's that. Now shut up, and keep watch."_

_Taro, the other figure sighs in response, shaking his head. He rubs his hands up and down his arms, shivering violently. "Six sennin, it is fucking freezing out here. Why did the captain send us out here?"_

_The other man turns around, stepping closer to Taro and glaring at him reproachfully. "We kidnapped the Fire Daimyō's son. Do you really think they're not going to send someone to take him back?" He hisses, his brown eyes taking on a venomous glint._

"_Aw, come on, Raiden," Taro protests, "If they're going to send someone, we'd know by now. The watchmen at the border would've let us know if they were coming."_

_The hooded figure crouches perfectly still and swathed in the dark. They had killed the watchmen at the back gate, severed their spines with well-placed senbon between the third and fourth thoracic vertebrae. It had killed them instantly. They'd quietly killed the rest, the reinforcements in the nearby station had no time to draw their swords or scream for help._

_Taro and Raiden were completely alone._

"_Are you honestly that naïve?" Raiden whispers harshly, grabbing Taro's wrist. "The Hokage may have sent one of the Watchdogs to kill us. Between the two of them, they took out an entire squadron of our ANBU when we tried to get the Hyūga girl. Either one of them will make dog meat out of you, easy." _

_Taro blanches, his whole body began to tremble. The hooded figure remains still._

_Taro grabs onto Raiden's bicep, his knuckles white. "Are they secure? Those kids?" Taro whispers hoarsely, his eyes darting in every direction except above him._

_Raiden smiles gently, wrenching Taro's hand from his bicep, holding his wrist. "They should be. They're guarded by six-man ANBU teams, each of them in separate rooms. And the Head of ANBU is close by." Raiden whispers, reassuring himself more than Taro._

_Taro shakes his head, his shoulders quivering. From fear, or the cold. "Then why are we here?" Taro whispers in protest, his feet scuffing against the pavement. _

_Raiden's lips curl into a knowing smile. Taro was fresh out of the chūnin ranks, it was no surprise to him that he's so close to pissing himself in fear. "Because if the Watchdog shows up, we have to let the others know they're here. We've got twenty ANBU stationed nearby. We can kill them and send their head back to Konohagakure." Raiden speaks up, a cocky smirk on his face. Taking the head of a Watchdog would make them legendary._

_The hooded figure stands, balancing on the head of the statue. _

"_Look, Taro-" They materialise behind Raiden, stabbing him twice in each kidney and severing his spine. Taro freezes, his eyes glaze over and widen, he looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Raiden slumps over, falling backwards, spread-eagled to the ground. A black shadow crawls out from beneath his warm body, and Taro's breath hitches. Blood._

"_Help-" Taro opens his mouth to scream, only to see a bloodied knife drawn to his throat. He stands deathly still, not daring to quiver in fear. He _

"_Scream and lose a tongue," a voice rasps from beneath the hood. Taro watches a pair of golden, almost animal-looking eyes fix upon him. _

_Fear. Fear. The only thought crossing Taro's mind. He nods, his eyes darting for the nearest escape. The knife edge presses so close to his skin, he feels beads of blood lace the knife edge._

"_I have a knife to your carotid and another to your aorta. Don't do anything stupid or you'll bleed out so fast, you'll be long dead when you hit the ground." The hooded figure whispers, pressing the edges of their knives close to his skin. Taro's legs buckle and shake. His lungs shudder in his chest. His heart thuds violently, thrashing and convulsing in his ribcage._

_Taro nods, his eyes clamp shut. He was staring Death in the face. "Tell me what you want." Taro whispers, his breathing hitching._

"_Where is the Daimyo's son being held?" The voice rasps, Taro's eyes remain closed, he doesn't even dare to allow the tears to escape from behind his eyelids._

_Taro's eyes open, staring pleadingly into the emotionless eyes of the killer before him. "I-i-I don't know. Please. They didn't tell me anything." He whispers, his legs threatening to collapse under him._

_The eyes narrow, and Taro shudders violently. Shit. They caught onto his deceit quickly. _

"_You're lying," the voice whispers harshly. Taro had no time to scream as a metal cestus clamps around his neck, and he's wrenched violently away from the safety of the ground. He feels only empty air beneath his feet, dangling precariously above certain death. "You had best open your mouth and start talking or I'm going to drop you a thousand feet."_

_Taro feels his body pulling towards his death, his hands grip tightly to the flesh and bone that held him. "I swear I don't know." He whispers, feeling the leather enclose tightly around his larynx. He couldn't scream, and even if he could, would anyone hear him?_

_The golden eyes stare at him, emotionless, blank, cold. He could see nothing else, no face, no shadow of a mouth or anything. Only eyes staring out from the darkness of the hood. "Swearing isn't good enough." The voice replies softly, the voice nothing more than a bonechilling rasp._

_Taro remains silent, knowing that far worse would happen to him if he should acquiesce. The grip lessens, and he feels his body drop several inches. His legs kick and struggle, but they couldn't reach to free him. He's utterly helpless. The fingers loosen again, and he cries out. "A-a-alright. I'll tell you." He pleads, and the eyes narrow, the fingers grip him tightly._

"_Tell me then." The voice growls, the chill of the metal brushing to his neck._

_Taro gulps, feeling the air become stuck in his throat. He couldn't breathe. "See that compound down there?" He says, his arms pointing wildly to a set of derelict buildings below. The eyes follow his fingers, but return immediately to his face. "He's on the sixth floor, he's in the seventeenth cell on the right."_

_The eyes bore into him. Taro's body locks up in fear, as he feels the death intent rolling off the Watchdog in waves. The intent was so potent, powerful, he couldn't resist against it. His heart hammers wildly in his chest. "Are you lying to me?" the voice asks lowly, their pupils widen. The intent envelops him._

_Taro tries to scream, but he chokes and gasps, struggling for air. His body limp, eventhough he could feel his entire being writhing and quivering violently, trying to escape the wolfish glare. "Are you insane? You're holding me over a fucking cliff. What reason do I have to lie?" He cries, tears rolling down his cheekbones. His whimpers roll down his body, and the eyes do not soften._

_The eyes stare unblinkingly. "You could be leading me into a trap." The voice whispers, and Taro shakes his head, his sobs shaking. He wanted nothing more than for their grip to loosen, for them to release him to fall to his death. _

"_Please, please. I swear to the gods I'm not lying." He cries, his fingers trying to prise the metal fingers from his throat, sobbing heavily as his fingers slide effortlessly off the cold steel._

_The eyes burn into his mind, and he wavers, his arms falling limply to his sides. "I already explained that making false promises will amount to nothing." The voice replies, quiet as ever._

_Taro closes his eyes, so he wouldn't have to look at those wolfish eyes anymore. "Please. I have a son waiting at home for me." He whispers, praying for release. But could any god, any deity, any higher being save him now? No. The gods were dead._

_The fingers sink tighter to his skin, the smoothness of the steel biting down to his veins. "I have no sympathy for liars." That damn voice taunts him, and Taro's eyes snap open. He glares at the death before him, damning those eyes. The eyes look back at him, amused at its prey's reaction. The prey that engrosses its death, defiant to die. _

_Taro chuckles, his face unsmiling, and his frightened eyes growing steely. His fingers reach up and grip the killer's wrist. He grins. "You're only going to die. They know you're here." He mocks the golden eyes, who do not change. They were not frightened, like him. The predator doesn't fear the threats of the flailing prey before its last breath. Taro's breath falter once again._

_The golden eyes gleam, with anticipation. He sees the shadow of a smile on the hooded face. His blood ran cold at the sight of a smile with no hint of happiness on it. "Not yet. But they will. They will." The voice croons, a steel finger stroking his jugular. _

_Taro shudders violently, a snarl twisting his handsome features. "You'll pay for this. You'll pay for this, you bastard." He hisses, his fingers tightening around the killer's bony wrist. _

_Their smile widens. "You're not in a position to make threats." They say softly, eyes boring into his own._

_Taro recoils violently, writhing in their grip. He kicks up, but his foot do not meet flesh or bone. Only still air. "Let me go, then." Taro hisses, and the eyes gleam._

_The killer laughs softly. _

"_Very poor choice of words."_

* * *

Asami bolts upright in her chair, gasping for air. Her lungs feel constricted and her heart is convulsing wildly in her chest. She places her palm over her heart, taking deep breaths. She exhales deeply, glancing around the room. She is in Konohagakure. Safe. Safe. _Safe_.

She takes a deep breath and settles back into her leather chair. She's safe. She is far away from that place. She closes her eyes and sighs. That same dream, a nightmare of death and mercilessness. It never ceased to drive her heart into wild convulsions and disturb her mind.

"Are you okay?"

Asami turns to face her sister, opening her eyes. Her sister stands bolt upright from her chair, staring directly at her.

"I'm fine, Asuka. I just got caught offguard." Asami says gently, leaning on her elbows. She glances down to the desk, looking over the papers scattered in disarray. Asami gathers them up and stacks them to the side. She clasps her hands and leans her chin on her hands.

_That dream. What was it? What did it mean? Why does it always go the same way?_

"You really need to see a doctor," Asuka says gently, standing up and walking to Asami's desk. She brushes the desk with her fingertips. _She looks like she's seen a ghost. _She spreads her arms over her desk, leaning down to face her. "Something's not right. You keep on having these dreams. I'm worried about you."

Asami glances up at Asuka. Her beautiful sister. Flawless honey and cream toned skin, sunkissed. Long, shiny dark brown hair put up in a chignon and accentuated by kanzashi. Wide bright magenta eyes framed by thick, long eyelashes that brushed her cheeks every time she blinked. A heart-shaped face, aristocratic cheekbones, full lips. She was young, and already a beauty. She probably had a whole herd of fanboys. Beautiful Asuka.

Asami sighs gently, placing her hand over Asuka's and squeezing it gently. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me," Asami's fingers weave into her sister's own, she gives her sister a small smile. "I'm just not sleeping well and it's backlashing. I'll be fine." She gives Asuka a reassuring smile, though Asami wonders if it reassures her more than it reassures Asuka.

Asuka stares down at her sister. _Is she lying to me? _But it was already clear Asami wasn't going to concede defeat. Asuka sighs gently and smiles back. "Alright, then." Asuka says gently, squeezing her hand. She walks away from Asami's desk, glancing back. _Is it giving her the same nightmares?_ Asuka wonders, shaking her head and turning away, sitting back behind her desk.

Asami takes a brown, weathered envelope from her in tray, opening the flap and taking out the manila folder inside. She glances at the photo, newly taken. She knew the man.

_Kiriyama Takemaru_.

A monster of a man. He was a warlord, though not the most typical one you'd see in the Land of Fire. He used crime, murder and cheating to claw his way to the top. He was born a noble, but he didn't settle for just his birth rights. He sold illegal wares, and was a well-known name in the underground black markets. Anything from forbidden weapon scrolls to prostitutes, he sold. He had occupied a town and claimed it as his own, fortifying it and preventing outside intervention from helping the villagers. His men ran rampant, stealing the food and livelihood of the villagers. He hired rogue shinobi to keep a tight rein over his village. A tyrant in every sense of the word. A black stain on the underbelly of the Land of Fire. No one had dared to try and arrest the man, his gilded tongue and deep pockets could turn anyone to be his loyal lapdog. But now, the Hokage had ordered a warrant for his assassination. Apparently, the executions of the headman and his family had been the final straw.

Asami spreads the photos over her desk, recordings of his whereabouts, of his crimes. Blueprints of the village infrastructure. The names of his guard captains. Basic information, already knowledge that had been left out in the open. The village is open to visitors, but they are thoroughly vetted before being permitted entry. Konohagakure is currently on neutral terms with Takemaru, but new deals are being made under the table, so it seems.

Asami glances at the bounty information and cocks an eyebrow. Three million ryō for his head, dead. Well, she isn't surprised. Many rich warlords want him dead and for a good reason. His village is on prime agricultural land, some of the most fertile soils in the country. That, and three quarters of Konohagakure's crops come from there. Takemaru is holding a noose around their throats and is free to tighten it if they threaten him. So his death will release that chokehold.

She tucks the files back into the folder and closes it, leaving it on her desk. He isn't a shinobi himself, and most of his men aren't either. However, he has around twenty rogue shinobi in his employment. She chews on her lip thoughtfully. _They could probably be paid off._ Rogue shinobi have no loyalties, and probably will hold the same view over Takemaru.

Asuka stands again, tidying her desk and tucking her chair back into her desk. "Asami, I'm going out to eat. Tell Takeo I'll be back around seven." Asuka grabs her bag and walks over to the slide door, glancing back to Asami again. "Look after yourself, okay?" Asuka says, opening the slide door and closing it behind her. Asami looks after her, staring at the door.

Asami stares at the bamboo frame, at the faint shine of the lacquered wood. "I will." Asami says gently, listening to her walk away down the hallways. _Is it five already? _Asami muses, glancing at the clock.

Indeed, it was five o'clock.

Asami cleans up her desk, putting everything back in order. She grabs her bag and tucks the folder into it. She needs to have a good look at it, consider her options.

She zips it up, pulling her keys out of her short's pocket. _Now, I can get out of here. Thank the gods. _She sighs in content, a relaxed smile on her face. _Finally._

She switches off the lights, the room dims and the shadows cloak the room. She picks up the watering can in the corner, carrying it over to Asuka's desk. She waters the office plants, an orchid on Asuka's desk and a few ferns and palms scattered over the room. She gathers up the loose files and books, tucking them away back in the bookcase. Finally, home.

She opens up a ranch slider to a balcony outside. She leaves the ranch slider open behind her, glancing out to Konohagakure. The sun is slowly going down, dying for another day, as it always does. The streetlights and lanterns strung up on the streets are already lit and the restaurants and bars are already opening up shop. The day life of Konohagakure is once again over.

Now, the night life of Konohagakure had just begun.

She walks back inside, locking the ranch slider behind her. She pulls down the blinds, walking back to the slide door to the hallway. Her fingers brush a aloe vera plant by the door, and she smiles. She will soon be a part of the night in Konohagakure. She opens the slide door and secures it behind her, brushing the door frame. She strolls down the hall, walking past the kanji tapestries and paintings that decorate the walls of the upper floors of the Shinobi Academy.

She makes her way down the stairs wrapped around the façade of the building, now on the main streets of Konohagakure.

Shopkeepers are already setting up their wares for the displays – painted vases and porcelain bowls perch neatly on shelves, noodle stallmen hanging up menu signs, stalls with roasted ducks and chickens barbecuing on spits with their juices dripping down and feeding the flames. Asami's mouth waters. She _loves _roast duck. _It's honestly the bomb._ Resisting the urge to snatch the duck from the stall, she pulls herself away from the bewitching fragrance.

Asami strolls casually along the streets, mourning the roast duck. The streets are already crowded with those who live in the night. She takes a right turn into an alley. She emerges to the other side, facing the Tekken Forge.

The façade of the building was a wide, open doorway framed by lacquered wood and rice paper screens. Above it there was a sign grafted in iron with a fist holding a hammer whilst the other held a blade and "Tekken Forge" in calligraphic kanji, written in slate blue.

The owner of the Tekken Forge, Hattori Masamune is by far the best blacksmith and artisan in Konohagakure, it wouldn't be a stretch to even go as far as to say maybe in the Fire Country. He made the finest weapons, most of the kunai and shuriken in the Konohagakure weaponry stores were made by him. Every single ANBU officer's sword is also his own work. The Hattori family have been with Konohagakure since the start, having been invited by its allies, the Yoshii Clan. They express their gratitude by making beautiful, top-quality weapons. Masamune has probably been the best artisan for the past century, except for perhaps, Hattori Hanzō. But he'd been dead for four years.

Asami enters the store, surrounded by racks and displays of exquisite sword sets, glass displays of throwing knives, shuriken sets and kunai sets lain out on gossamer, armour sets on mannequins and beautiful hand-crafted utility pouches.

"Good evening, Asami-san," Tarina, the shopkeeper greets her warmly, cutting a piece of tan leather into sections. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tarina made most of the utility pouches for the Yoshii Clan, most of them were custom-order for each person's needs. She had made eight utility pouches for Asami. Asami had a large medicine and scroll pouch and six smaller pouches with various other pieces of equipment, all of them strapped to the lower back. She also makes shuriken holsters for everyday use, medicinal pouches for medical shinobi, scroll belts and hip holsters for every shinobi. Tarina, being a personal friend of Asami's family, had embroidered and beaded intricate designs of Asami's pouches, making them more unique in every way.

Of course, Tarina is significantly more than a seamstress.

In the days she was in her prime, she was a bukijutsu specialist – a fearsome kunoichi with a penchant for sharp and pointy weapons, and she knew how to make it hurt when she used them. However, a compound fracture to her femur took her out of action for six long months, and made her realise that she needed to spend more time with her family. Tarina retired as an active shinobi, however, she continues to serve Konohagakure by her own means and her own terms.

"Evening, Tarina-san," Asami replies, bowing her head slightly, "Is Masamune-tōshō here?"

Asami approaches the counter, watching Tarina marking the leather sections with white chalk. Asami watches those slender fingers gracefully weave thread through leather, bringing the pieces together. Already Asami could see this would be a masterpiece, like all of the others before it. Every piece unique but by no means less perfect than any other.

Tarina glances up at her from her work, steel grey eyes gentle and warm. She is a beauty, even though she is in her sixties. She had been a legendary beauty once, and she still is beautiful, in the way all elderly people are, they have their own definition of beauty. They stare at eachother for a moment – Asami's indigo eyes into Tarina's grey eyes. Silently watching eachother. "Oyaji!" Tarina calls, her voice calling over the clattering and clanging in the workshop.

"Am I needed?" A man asks, and the two women turn.

Hattori Masamune is just over six foot tall, with long silvery grey hair tied back and pale teal eyes, he is heavily muscled. Dressed in a light sleeveless haori, a light singlet and black pants. A man still in his prime years even at his age. His tanned skin is laced with charcoal, sweat and weapons oil from spending hours at the furnace, repairing and creating weapons. But what is hard work to everyone else seemed too easy to him. Masamune takes a cloth tucked loosely in his waistband and wipes the sweat from his forehead, leaning against the doorframe. Asami had seen photos of him in his youth, and it was no wonder women threw themselves at him. But he only wanted Tarina, and he fought many others to win her affections.

"I wouldn't have called if you weren't." Tarina says bluntly, but Masamune only smiles goofily in response. It is their own form of humour. Tarina is customer-savvy, and seems jovial and friendly, but in reality, she was a hot-headed tigerish woman. Masamune is intimidating and scary by first impressions, but he is a gentle giant and everyone that knows them knows who wears the pants in their marriage.

Masamune turns his attentions to Asami, who looked rather confused. Masamune tucks his cloth into his waistband, walking to the counter. "Ah, little Asami-tan." Asami's eyebrows tent in response. Masamune only chuckles. "How can I help you today?"

He knows she hates being called –chan or –tan. In fact, she loathes honorifics. She only uses them when referring to Tarina and Masamune out of respect.

"Well, firstly, I need to have some of my throwing knives fixed. And my tantō is in a terrible state. In fact, a lot of my equipment is in disrepair." Asami replies, scuffing her shoe on the ground. Masamune's expression changes. Asami lovingly tended to her weapons just as she did to her pets – these had been the first weapons she'd ever bought from him.

Tarina picks up her half-completed utility pouch carefully, carrying it over to the sewing station over to the far side of the room. Masamune leans on his palms, looking at Asami appraisingly. "Alright, show them to me. I'll see what I can do," Masamune says, gesturing to the counter.

Asami draws her set of throwing knives from her left utility pouch, setting them on the table. Followed by what Masamune presumes to be her tantō wrapped in a cloth bag. This is followed by her two chakra blades, her kunai blade and a pair of neko-te.

Masamune spreads them out separately, analysing them carefully. _These throwing knives are definitely salvageable, however, she probably needs more of them now… after all, kunai are all well and good, but they aren't good replacements for throwing knives. _He mused, setting the throwing knives aside. He pulls the tantō closer to him, gently unravelling the cloth bag wrapped around it.

He inhales sharply. The blade is in a horrific state. There are several cracks in the blade; it looks like it is going to shatter into thousands of pieces even if she uses it to slice a leaf. He could reforge it but the infused chakra in the blade is too weak and the core steel had been melted. Obviously a Lightning technique had hit it. _Six sennin. This thing looks like it's been through a hundred wars. Hmh. I don't think I can save it. _Masamune sets it aside, shaking his head and clucking his tongue in disappointment.

Asami's face fell.

He studies the pair of chakra blades. The handguards aren't in the greatest state, they were worn thin. He pushes them aside and glances at the kunai blade. The blade has lost a few inches off its tip. _Nope. That's got to be replaced. _He looks at the neko-te, pulling at the finger glaives. They were loose. The leather gloves are in a terrible state. He sighs. _No. These are no good either. The leather's too damaged for Tarina to repair it._

"Okay, can you give me all of your equipment?" Masamune asks, pushing the neko-te aside as well. "I might as well take a look at everything while I'm at it."

Asami unhooks her sashes carefully, setting her pouches except for the biggest on the counter. Masamune pulls out a large tray, piling the pouches onto the tray and disappearing into the workshop.

It was the longest ten minutes of Asami's life. Those weapons had been the first she had ever bought, she had been through hell and back with them. But they'd fought their last skirmish. And Asami was utterly devastated to see them go.

Masamune reappears from the curtain that covers the doorway into the workshop, bearing the tray. At least three quarters of the equipment she had given him was gone. Her heart sinks in her chest. She takes back the pouches, clasping them back to her belt.

"I'm sorry, Asami. I know these items meant a lot to you," Masamune says quietly, giving her a slight smile. "I'll let you keep them if you want, for sentimental value. However, a lot of it needs to be replaced, namely the tantō and your smaller blades, like your chakra blades. Your throwing knives are fine, I'll fix them. However, I have a proposition for you."

Asami stares at him. She draws out her wallet, biting her lip. "Yes? Do tell."

"For one, I recommend you purchase more throwing knives."

Masamune holds up a throwing knife, a silver blade with a _nie_ sheen, his signature. The blade was beautiful, with a black hilt with silver motifs to match its sheen.

"You probably have used kunai for a substitute, but as you probably know, kunai aren't designed to do the functions throwing knives do. Kunai are heavier, and they're designed to pin things like sealing tags. Throwing knives are one-hit killing weapons, that's why they're lighter, they travel faster and thus, are far deadlier. They're designed to be lethal." Masamune says, setting it back down on the tray.

"You currently have ten. I would recommend you get fifteen more, to have a set of twenty five." Masamune collected up the ten knives, tucking them into his front apron pocket.

Asami knows a set of ten costs approximately five hundred ryō, so fifteen would cost seven hundred and fifty. Throwing knives are cheap, but that would be because they are fairly simple to make due to the fact they are smaller in size, and cost less materials.

"My second proposition is that I know you like the latest set I've made. I know you've been eyeing it for several months. I may offer you a slight discount, as this set includes many of the items you no longer have," Masamune watches as Asami's eyes light up, and a smirk appears on his face. "This is the offer I'll give you, as well as replace the items that aren't in this set, like the makibishi, the kunai blade, the chakra blades and the neko-te for example. And I'll do them in the leftover resources from this set."

"Show me." Asami replies, still holding onto her wallet, eyes fixed on the curtain that lead to the next room. Masamune beckons her to follow, disappearing behind the blue curtain. Asami follows him eagerly, drawing back the curtain. Masamune brings her to a long rectangular-shaped shadow in the room, veiled by a long drape of blue velvet. Masamune's fingers weave into the fabric, and suddenly, he pulls it away.

Asami's jaw almost drops to the floor. It is one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever beheld. Held in a glass case, lay Masamune's magnum opus.

On a wooden mount, a wakizashi, tantō, uchigatana and katana set. The blades are in the _nie _style like with all of his sets, but they are different. Set with the tengu brand, Masamune's signature at the bottom of the blade, the top of the hilt. The hilts are bound in blue silk and black leather wrappings, and at the silver kashiragane at the bottom of the hilt, decorative tassels with blue jewels at the end. They are accompanied with a jade hilted kogatana set.

But that is only the middle of the display.

A set of fifteen throwing knives with painted blue and white porcelain handles reinforced by steel lie in a half-circle on a piece of black gossamer with a pair of butterfly swords with silver handles crossed in the centre. On a mount behind that of the katana, a white steel hachiwara with a bone carved handle. A pair of hookswords with celadon handles lay beside a pair of jian with ebony and silver hilts, made of black metal. A zanbutō lay at the very back, sheathed in an ebony saya.

"I could replace the handles of the throwing knives to match the ones in this set, and I can throw in a throwing knife belt, some obi and other weapon sets with the same colour schemes, as well as a maintenance kit," Masamune's voice pulls Asami out of her trance, and she shakes her head. _Kami-sama, those really have a strong allure. _Asami pulls her eyes away from the case, and looks at Masamune.

"However, I must warn you that a nobleman was in here earlier and was interested in buying this set."

Asami paused. No way in hell was some guy getting his manicured hands on this. "Ah, well, how much does this cost?" Asami asks nonchalantly, unzipping her wallet.

"Two and a half million ryō." Masamune answers smoothly.

Asami's jaw dropped. "Wait, what?! Two and a half _million_?! That's more than a year and a half worth's of income on my current salary!" Asami falls to her knees, completely stunned. Two and a half million. Two and a half million. _Six sennin. I barely have five hundred thousand._

"Well, I guess you could have another set in your price range-"

"Yeaaaaaa….no! I don't think so! This set has my name all over it." Asami growls, plucking a wad of bills from her wallet. "No way in hell is some nobleman getting his hands on my babies. Here, I'll reserve them and pay five hundred thousand upfront."

Masamune's mouth dropped.

"Well then. When can you pay the rest?" Masamune says, taking the wad of bills.

Asami chews on her tongue. When _could _she pay the rest? Well, maybe she could work overtime, do some extra tutoring and do some babysitting. Do some menial chores and help plant potatoes and beetroot, sell some supplies to local shops, walk dogs and catch lost cats. Perhaps even do some – god, she hated herself for even proposing it – _art commissions_ for others. But ultimately, that would get her barely two hundred thousand. Hmh.

"In a week." Asami answers confidently, giving him a blinding smile. But she really knew there was no way in hell that was ever happening. "And, I'll raise it up to two and a half million, not including the five hundred I just paid, since I have to replace some of my other stuff anyway. And I want to buy some new stuff. So, three million total." _Yep. I'm boned. Damn my stupid mouth._

Masamune arches an eyebrow. "Alright, by Sunday. In the meantime, I'll let you borrow some of my stuff but it must come back in the same condition. Capisce?" Masamune draws the veil back over the case, hanging a reservation sign over it. Her babies are safe. For now. Asami nods in approval and follows him back to the counter. He hands her a cloth bag, presumably filled with weapons, due to the clanging and cluttering inside whenever it moved. He places the wad of bills beside Tarina, and Masamune smiles.

"Excellent. I'll need you to come in tomorrow morning to have fittings for a throwing knife belt and the like. I'll also return your stuff, to do with it as you will." Masamune says, rubbing his hands together.

Asami smiles back, ignoring the internal screams of her conscience.

"Anyway, thank you for your patronage."

Asami continues smiling, and farewells him silently, leaving the Tekken Forge and returning to the alley. She makes his way back to the main street. Her smile remained on her face.

_Shit. How will I get my hands on that much cash in one week? Let alone two and a half million, what about one million? That five hundred thousand was four months' worth of savings. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Yoshii Asami, you idiot._

Asami sighs in irritation, making her way through the streets. Now, she has to go home, and think about what she was going to do about it.

* * *

Asuka makes her way down the street. She had gone home and gotten dressed into more casual clothes to go out, and to get her wallet. It is now half past five. The west district of Konoha is the best restaurant area – Yakuniku Q and Ichiraku Ramen are among her favourites, but tonight, she is going to Kappa Ike, the Kappa Pond, a sushi bar, for dinner.

Kappa Ike is quite a clever wordplay. Kappamaki, being a kind of hosomaki sushi with cucumber filling, and also for the mythological creature, the kappa, which always has a penchant for cucumbers. That, and the restaurant has an outside area with a koi pond. It is fairly new, it only opened last week but it has only ever had good words spoken of it. The tempura and inarizushi are said to be the best in the region.

The owner and head chef, Yoshii Tashi, is one of Asuka's cousins. Tashi is an amazing cook and sushi was her specialty, so Asuka knew that she wasn't called the best sushi chef in Konohagakure idly. She is also excellent with wordplay, so it is obvious she'd come up with the name for her restaurant. Tashi was a special jōnin, but she was injured badly on a mission with an altercation with a sushi chef, and Tashi somehow saw it as a sign it was time for a lifestyle change.

The restaurant exterior has traditional architecture, with a green tiled roof and pink lanterns hanging off the corners of the roof. It overlooks the river, in fact, right next door to the bridge.

Asuka walks through the open doorway, framed by two kappa statuettes perching on two columns on either side. It is a wooden interior, with a cube-shaped bar in the centre with a sushi train. There is a cube-shaped fish tank behind the bar in the centre, filled with puffer fish and tropical fish. Hell, Asuka should've expected it. Tashi is obsessed with fish, they're her summoning contract. She loves _fugu_ the most. Circling the foot of the tank, drink dispensing taps, a miniature refrigerator with a glass door, and racks with bottles of alcohol. Hm. Not bad. It doubles as a sake bar too. However, Tashi sells other types of alcohol: wine, tequila, vodka, rum, all kinds. Tashi's father is a wine grower and wine maker, a successful one too.

Tashi's sister, Sayomi, is working as the bartender. She is mixing a cocktail for someone, shaking the mixer in her manicured hands. Tashi is to her left, cutting up ingredients and dampening nori sheets for the sushi, her hands dashing quickly to and fro. There are premade sushi boxes and bento boxes lying in ice, made for patrons to take away to surrounding tables if the bar was too full.

Tashi's hands look blurred, she is dishing out sushi boxes at the blink of an eye. Asuka wouldn't be surprised if she is using a Body Flicker technique, the place is _packed_.

"Oi, Asuka!" Asuka's head spins around, meeting Kohaku's face. He waves her over and Asuka strolls over, sitting down at a table by a window.

Makoto Kohaku. A handsome boy, with deep auburn hair and eyes the colour of fire. The only boy in Team Kazehiko, rare, when the typical arrangement was two boys to every girl. He is hot-tempered, but when he isn't, he is the most jovial and sweet person to be with. Asuka and Kohaku were instantly friends, but not for the reason most people would think. Across him, Kurama Megumi.

Megumi is pale and slim. She has delicate looks. Dark brown hair and pale blue eyes, of a slim and graceful build. She hails from the Kurama Clan, and predictably, specialises in genjutsu. She is boisterous and energetic, and it is rather shocking she'd been quiet this long.

Asuka had known for a long time both of them had a strong attraction to the other, but clearly neither of them had plucked up the guts to say something. She was very tempted on many, many occasions to grab their heads and smoosh them together. The frustration of the friendzone frustrated her to no end, and she wasn't even the one being friendzoned.

"Took you long enough! I'm starving!" Megumi snaps, yanking Asuka down into her seat. She raises her hand, summoning a waitress. Rama, Tashi's older sister.

Rama was a goddess of beauty, voluptuous with wide hips and a generous bust. Gorgeous pink curls down to her waist and paired with those vibrant purple eyes. She was garbed in a fine lavender silk kimono with iris flower motifs. Not to mention she had men of all kinds all over her. However, Rama would definitely give them a forceful application of a fist to their face if they get too close or handsy. Rama is no pushover, and any man that ever dared to give her crap often got twice the crap back. However, this applies to anyone that sasses her.

"Oh, hey, Asuka. How are you?!" Rama envelopes Asuka into a bonecrushing hug. Asuka was suffocating. Rama's breasts are smothering her way too much for Asuka's comfort. "I'll tell Tashi you're here. It's on the house, name it and I'll bring it."

"Sake." Megumi says, deadpan.

"Yes, and a giant frog singing barbershop will come tapdancing through the front door." Rama says bluntly, releasing Asuka from her hold. "No alcohol. You're underage, and your grandmother would skin me like a grape. And I just paid for an expensive facial, and I'll make you pay the next one."

Megumi quietened down.

"Can you get me a salmon platter, please? And bubble tea." Asuka says, smiling at her cousin. Asuka glances at Kohaku and Megumi, "And they'll have…?"

"Unagi nigiri and tuna sashimi please. And takoyaki with some chili sauce and lots of wasabi. And I want cayenne tea." Kohaku replies, leaning back on his cushioned seat. He rubs his index finger and thumb pads together, staring out the window at the river.

Megumi yawns, rubbing her eyes. "I'll have inari and prawn sushi. And some kappamaki. Can you get me a Red Ox, ma'am?"

"Oh, and give us a helping of seaweed salad and tempura, please?" Asuka adds on, watching Rama scribble down their orders on a notepad.

"'Kay, I'll be right back. I'll talk to Tashi." Rama sashays to the bar, standing still. "Oi, Tashi, come here. I need to talk to you."

Tashi stops chopping up some cucumber and turns, an inaudible conversation ensuing between them. Tashi nods and her hands blur again. Within moments, Asuka can see their orders materialising on the bench in front of Rama, who watches her sister work, while men watch her.

Rama stacks up the orders on a large tray, sashaying back to them. Damn her hips. Every drunk guy at the bar is ogling at her. "Here. I'll come back with your drinks in a minute. I have to find a moment when Sayomi's free." Rama places each platter in front of them, her manicured nails balancing the loaded plates perfectly. She places down a large helping of seaweed salad in a bowl in the middle, and a large platter of tempura and a bowl of dipping sauce beside it.

Asuka plucks up her chopsticks, manoeuvring her fingers. The sushi was beautifully made, fresh wood smoked salmon and puffy white rice. A small dish of soy sauce and wasabi lies to the side, and a pile of ginger lies askew on the left side. Asuka's mouth waters. That's the best-looking salmon she'd seen in a long time.

_Sweet ninja Jesus. Tashi. You've really outdone yourself._

* * *

_**Glossary of Terms:**_

(吉井•旭美) _**Yoshii Asami**_ – This is Asami's full name. Usually, the name Asami has these two kanji (朝美) taking "asa-" (朝) meaning morning and "-bi, -mi" (美) meaning beauty or beautiful. The full name meaning "morning beauty", however, Asami's name means "beautiful dawn", "dawning beauty", the more literal meaning being "beauty of the morning sun" or "beautiful morning sun". I like the two former ones a bit better, they're more poetic. I chose to give her name a different meaning because… well… Asami is a common name for manga/anime OCs, let alone manga/anime characters and they usually use the more common kanji for their character's name. I wanted Asami's name to be different. I wanted it to connect to the meaning of her mother's name, as it is a very common Japanese occurrence for a child's name to take one kanji from one of their parent's name or have a similar meaning to a parent's name.

(吉井•飛鳥) _**Yoshii Asuka**_ – This is Asuka's full name. Most transliterations of this name usually use these three kanji (明日香) "ashita, asu-" (明日) meaning tomorrow, and "-ka" (香) meaning fragrant or fragrance. Asuka thus means "tomorrow fragrance". However, this Asuka's name means "flying bird". She's taken a kanji from her father's name, like how Asami's name is connected to her mother's. However, Asuka was actually named after someone else, one of her mother's ancestors.

(星夜) _**Seiya**_ – This is the name of the person who wrote the letter to the Third Hokage. Composed of "hoshi-, boshi-, sei-" meaning star and "-ya, -yo" meaning night, their name means "starry night".

If you've got any questions or want more translations for terms you don't understand, shoot me a question at my Tumblr. I'm thinking of doing a Livejournal account. Get back to me on that.

I've set up a poll at my profile page.

* * *

**So, this is the beginning of Dog Days. **

**I've had this story in my head for a very long time (roughly the concept started in April 2009) so that was a REALLY long time ago. Because of this, I know exactly what is going to happen, and as it goes along, so will you. Well, to an extent, I don't want it to be predictable. I made the first chapter jump around a little but it was to establish a theme of this story, of which there are many, but this particular scene is very important. You'll find out why. Every story is meant to have an underlying meaning and **_**Dog Days**_** is no different.**

**I gave the prelude its title for a specific reason and I'll discuss why on my Tumblr blog, well, if people want it to be elaborated on.**

**The following chapters will be consistent and follow the basic pre-Shippūden storyline and then on to the Shippūden storyline. However, the characters won't be too involved in the main plots until much later, when everything got meshed together.**

**I haven't fleshed out many of the character's personalities yet, after all, I've just introduced them and first impressions are rarely if ever reliable sources of someone's character. **

**I'm writing it from an omniscient narrative style, meaning it is a third-person style of writing, however, you can see everyone's inner thoughts, however, in a particular part, it'll focus in on one person. I like this style best in my writing, because it isn't biased with one character's feelings or thoughts, so I'll stick with it.**

**Anyway, I'd love a review if you'd like to indulge me, and have an awesome day. I have a Tumblr so please shoot me a question if you've got one. **

**I also have DeviantArt, but I don't post art there… My art skills are extremely rusty, I have no proper tools and I don't have access to a tablet. I'm dirt-poor so I can't buy stuff anyway. I'm going back to art school to try and relearn from the beginning. I won't post any art there until my art skills have evolved beyond random doodles.**

**Anyway, please subscribe or follow this if you like what you see. See you next week with the next chapter.**

**Slush **


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